


Heavy and Heady

by BlueKingDedede



Series: Cowboy Smut [5]
Category: Red Dead Redemption (Video Games)
Genre: Creampie, Cunnilingus, First Time, M/M, Penis In Vagina Sex, Possibly Triggering Material, Power Imbalance, Read the notes please, Sexuality Crisis, Trans Arthur Morgan, Trans Male Character, Vaginal Fingering, Vaginal Sex, kind of? Like Arthur explores his sexuality in this
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-03
Updated: 2021-02-03
Packaged: 2021-03-15 03:26:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,113
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29182488
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BlueKingDedede/pseuds/BlueKingDedede
Summary: Dutch just worries; worries about his right hand's well-being, about the possibility of him leaving the gang behind. There was something on Arthur's mind, something that kept him from returning to his home as frequently as he used to. He hadn't known that the solution would be such an easy one, that the cause of concern was something he could resolve in the blink of an eye. But as it turned out, there was nothing a good and firmtalkcouldn't fix.
Relationships: Arthur Morgan/Dutch van der Linde
Series: Cowboy Smut [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2032327
Comments: 9
Kudos: 37





	Heavy and Heady

**Author's Note:**

> I just wanted to practice writing PiV Sex i swear 
> 
> please don't read this if it might make you feel uncomfortable, or if it might trigger your dysphoria!  
> there's no mention of arthur experiencing any dysphoria at all, but visual descriptions of his parts.  
> The words i used are clit, nub, cunt. there's no mention of his chest at all. 
> 
> be safe friends, and to those who keep reading: enjoy this piece of mindless smut.

Dutch had suspected it for months, had seen it coming ever since they had set camp at Clemens Point.

Arthur was slipping through his fingers, the man even harder to get ahold of than ever before, out on his own little adventures more often than not. He obviously had no desire to linger around the gang for too long, and every time he did, it were excuses that fell from his lips.

The man was residing heavily in Dutch's mind, his infrequent coming and going having him smoke more cigars than he had any clear reason to. Every brief appearance of his only furthered his doubts. Arthur wasn't looking worse for wear, he wasn't ill, he wasn't bothered by anything - he had no reason to, had no more reason to be afraid or to stray as far as he did. 

After John had left them for a year, Dutch hadn't known what to expect of his _sons_ any longer. They were the most loyal to him, the only ones he _knew_ he could rely on fully at the end of the day. Only Hosea's gently spoken words had soothed his temper, had kept him from sending John away once again. 

But now, Arthur? Would he loose him, too? Would the man not return some day, never to be seen again? 

His demeanor was suspicious, indicating that there was _something_ that kept him away, some reason why he rather slept rough as opposed to the comfort of his cot.

Dutch had given him _everything_ , had always ensured the man would have all the comforts given in their primitive and simple life. 

But as it turned out, it had never been enough. 

-

He had sent Javier out in the early morning hours, had given him the clear instruction to track and find that brother of his, to bring him back to camp no matter if he was kicking and screaming. 

The Mexican had yet to return, his horse not breaking through the trees as long as Dutch dared to look, nothing indicating if he had managed to find Arthur at all. 

With the darkening of the day, with the sun sinking behind the stretch of the horizon, Dutch was growing impatient. He was pacing in front of his tent, shrugging off reassuring hands from Molly and Hosea alike, rising to no conversation no matter how alluring it was presented to him.

Why couldn't they understand his concern? Why didn't they _see_ that something was off - that something was very obviously wrong? 

Every man and woman of this camp adored Arthur, all of them as blind as could be, blinded by his pretense of loyalty, by his trustworthy appearance. So what if he was running off on them? If he was planning to leave them all behind? He sure as hell was _good enough_ for that; a man of many talents, an intriguing individual capable of more than aiming a gun.

-

"Dutch!" The familiar voice was like music to his ears, the hand holding the cigar dropping it at Dutch's side, the knit between his eyebrows disappearing for the first time that day. "Look who I found," Javier drawled, riding ahead before jumping off his mount, baring the view for Arthur to break through the trees behind him. 

The Mexican went on, recounting how and when he'd first picked off his trail, how he had ridden long and fast, his words drowned out the second Dutch laid eyes on the man he had been waiting for. 

Arthur took a gentler approach. He didn't seem aware of the urgency, climbing out of the saddle slowly, offering his horse pats and scratches, never once lifting is gaze to meet that of Dutch. 

It brought the frustration back to his mind, all the doubts that had built up over the day boiling, threatening to spill over now as he came to face the man, dismissive and oblivious as could be. 

"Arthur." His voice carried all the authority it could, Javier's rambling immediately stopping as he heard it. The smaller man retreated without another word, leaving his horse hitched but saddled, visibly reluctant to linger in the thickening air between Dutch and Arthur. 

The man he'd addressed needed more time to understand the situation, taking all the time he could need to pamper his horse, only letting up when Dutch's stare continued to pierce him to the bone. 

"What is it, Dutch?" He asked gruffly, propping his hip against a hitching post, arms crossing in front of a wide chest. "I ain't got time for this, I been lookin'-" 

"Looking, yes." Dutch cut him off swiftly, taking a couple of steps closer, towering over the other man easily despite his own impressive height. "You've been out _looking_ an awful lot lately." He didn't want to hear any nonsense now. If the man stuttered his way around an excuse, Dutch would just have to take matters into his own hands. What leader would he be, if not even his right hand would listen to him without question?

"Listen, I-" Arthur was growing agitated himself, raising his hands and shaping them into fists the moment Dutch cut him off again.

"No. You listen, _son_ ," Dutch had the man cornered against the hitching post, his body between Arthur and the safety of camp. "I've been watching this long enough. I see you disappear all the time, I see you come back with nothing to show for it." His voice was growing darker, although it didn't raise in volume by much. "Are you betraying us, Arthur? Are you betraying _me_?"

The other man's eyes grew big, his head shaking in a quick, jerky movement. "Never- I would never-"

"I _need_ you with me, Arthur," Dutch said firmly, speaking right over him again, his hands grabbing for the other man's. "And if you can't see that... if you don't understand how much pain you cause me- how much you have me _worry_ -," he sighed, closing his eyes for a second to think, finding himself incapable of doing so while staring into Arthur's deep blue eyes. 

"Dutch, it's- it's not what you think it is." Arthur was budging against his hold, pulling weakly against the hands holding his wrists, although he obviously didn't put his heart into it.

"What is it then, son?" The stare of Dutch's eyes was almost vulnerable, his voice sounding softer than it had for the duration of their talk. "What is it that's bothering you?" He asked again, gently letting up on the other man's wrists.

Arthur released a deep sigh, one that seemed to have rested within his chest for a long time. He shifted on his feet, looking to Dutch and over his shoulder. "Can we talk in your tent?" He asked, the expression on his face bordering on shy, displaying something that Dutch had never seen before.

His anger seemed to dissipate, all that had bundled up over the day slowly slipping off his shoulders. Dutch had been caught up in his head, had allowed his emotions to get the best of him. He had never once considered that there might be an easy solution for all of this, something small, something he could've overlooked between all the stress. 

He took a step back, giving Arthur the freedom to step around him, following as he walked towards the big tent in the middle of camp. 

-

"Miss O'Shea," Dutch offered her a nod, ignoring the hopeful look the woman gave him as she raised her eyes from the book in her hands. "Would you kindly give us a moment?" He asked, polite, but distanced.

The smile fell off her lips again, Molly raising to her legs to smooth down her dress. She put her finger in between the pages of the book, pressing it to her chest. "Everything okay, Dutch?" Her gaze cast over Arthur, caught the timidness of his expression. What she thought wasn't clear to Dutch, although it rarely was. 

He gestured for her to step outside, closing the tent flaps after Arthur and he were alone.

-

Silence began to grow as the camp became sleepy around them. It was late evening by now, only few birds remaining around the area to sing their last, mellow tunes. Their songs would soon be replaced by Mr. Escuella's guitar, the sound one that had accompanied many a night at the Van der Linde camps.

"Sit down." Dutch sunk down on the edge of his cot, certain that Arthur would do the same in a timely manner.

But he didn't. He stayed where he was, wringing his hands as his eyes were glued to the ground.

"Son?"

"Dutch, I- do you think I'm repulsive?" The words had spilled from Arthur's lips all at once, rendering Dutch speechless this time around. 

He leaned forward, propping his elbows onto his knees. His eyebrows drew upwards, a questioning expression laying within his eyes. He didn't have to voice his surprise, didn't have to clarify his confusion. 

"You know- _what I am_ ," Arthur continued, the last words nothing more than a whisper. He rubbed his palms against another, shifting his weight like he had once before. "I've been, searching... for someone, somethin'-- y'know." the gesture of his hand was brief, not indicative of what he meant in the slightest. 

It dawned on him slowly, the issue Arthur was speaking about. This _thing_ that hadn't been much of an issue all through the years. 

The man had aged just fine, had lived to 36 by now - achieving what not everybody in this world was granted. 

He had lived with a secret all this time, though. With something that shouldn't have been as easy to hide after all. 

"You've looked for a _man_?" Was all Dutch could ask for now, astonished at the conclusion he had drawn. He knew of Arthur's previous relationships, knew that he had laid with women ever since he had reached a suitable age. It had never been a question before, the fact that his... bits weren't inherently male not mattering in the slightest. "Why?" He was unsure why that crave had arisen at all, how it was possible that preferences could change in such a way. 

Arthur nodded, color creeping to his cheeks in shame, his stare downcast and never to be raised on his own. He didn't answer the next question, didn't look like even he knew the reason for his behavior. 

The man had lived in hiding all through his life, had worn man's drawers ever since Hosea and Dutch had picked him off the streets, had reacted to his preferred name and only that. He had never done anything to expose himself, to make this public. 

"After all this time?" Dutch asked again, keeping his voice soft. Whatever irritation he had felt before, no matter the weight of the betrayal he had assumed within his own head, he had no desire to beat the other man down further. Dutch knew that he could never understand the full extent of his feelings, that he could only ever _guess_ how much or little this affected Arthur. 

"Thought I-- thought I was fine with the women, but... last times ain't been workin' out." His tone was regretful, the man sinking down and onto the empty chair. Miss Mary Linton had left a deep dent in his heart, and as everyone around their camp knew, he still jumped at her every word. 

"Arthur," Dutch leaned forward, trying to hold the younger man's gaze. "You got the heart, the dedication," he began, sighing as he searched for the next words to leave his mouth. "But you don't have the _parts_ to satisfy a woman." 

That made the other lift his gaze in an instant, the expression he gave him bordering on offended. "I _can_ satisfy a woman." He brought out, fixating Dutch with his angered stare. And maybe they shouldn't be speaking of this in the first place, maybe he was right to be frustrated with the course of the conversation, but Dutch hadn't made his point yet. 

"But has a woman ever satisfied you?" He asked, returning to the issue at hand, to the reason Arthur had named for his long times spent away from camp. 

He swallowed, his hands clenching around the fabric of his pants. There was no further word spoken, silence settling over the scene. 

-

"Why didn't you ask me?" Was what broke the tension, words uttered by Dutch without much thought; or maybe with too much. 

"What?" A breathless sound, nothing more than a syllable.

"If you wanted to be with a man, why not one you trust?" Dutch met Arthur's eye without resistance, feeling no regret at having spoken this offer so clearly. 

"You're jokin', right?" He lifted his voice now, lifted it over the deafening silence, over the outside noises that didn't matter within this tent. A laugh left his throat, disbelieving and surprised, Arthur's head shaking with the sound of it.

"Do I look like I am?" It was Dutch's turn to stand, to move forward in the small space, his bigger frame casting Arthur's in shadows. The man remained sitting, staring up at him, meeting his eye for now. 

He crouched down in front of him, taking his face in between his palms. Ringed fingers splayed over rough cheeks, Dutch taking the proximity to admire this man for all his beauty. He had rarely found a chance to before, rarely found many minutes with Arthur and nobody else. 

"I can show you what you want," he offered, his voice deep and quiet between them, gentle breaths mingling with Arthur's own. 

Dutch caught the look within the man's eyes, caught the consideration displaying behind all that blue. 

Arthur swallowed again, his throat bobbing noticeably under Dutch's fingers. He was thinking, hands coming up to wrap around Dutch's wrists, not pushing him away but holding onto him.

"Okay," he looked up at him from beneath his lashes, biting at his lower lip shyly. It wasn't something Dutch had ever expected to see, a look so foreign on the though man's face, but still, it suited him better than anything else. 

"Get on the bed," Dutch ordered, not unkindly. He patted the other's cheek once more, taking his hands away to give him the space to move. "Take off your clothes," he added, raising back to his legs before smoothing his vest down.

His eyes were glued to every movement of the other man, taking in the way Arthur tentatively sat down on the edge of his cot, his fingers starting to open his belt obediently. Color had risen to his cheeks, turning his appearance even more lovely, the redness standing out under the faint lamp-light. 

Dutch moved closer, back down to his knees, assisting the other man in shrugging his pants all of the way off. He was baring himself in front of him, showing him what had been hidden under his layers all through the years. The briefs around his hips were stained in the middle, a wet spot already developing where his sex was leaking.

"Lay back for me," Dutch muttered, digging his thumbs under the elastic of Arthur's underwear, beginning to pull them down as well. He was exhaling deeply before inhaling the sweet scent from between Arthur's legs, his own arousal starting to build within his core. 

"Ever had someone's mouth on you, Darling?" He asked, his eyes heavy-lidded as he looked upon the other, tossing his briefs to the ground. 

Arthur gasped as his wetness met the cool air, squirming and shaking his head. He laid back, reclining hesitantly against Dutch's pillows. 

A timid shake of the head. "No."

And who would've, honestly? Posh Mary Linton, with her high and mighty demeanor?

Dutch hitched the man's legs up over his shoulders, allowing Arthur to hook his feet behind his head. He took another deep breath, savored the scent that pleasantly crept into his nostrils, leaning in further.

His fingers spread the man's lips, tongue digging in between them, dragging upwards. 

Arthur released a shuddering breath, his hands clenching against the sheets of Dutch's cot. His eyes fluttered shut as the older man looked up to him, as he latched onto his clit and started _sucking_.

"Dutch..." His voice was heavy, shyness evident in his features, hidden behind a veil of clear-as-day lust. The man was raising his hips, seeking more of Dutch's mouth, seeking more of that sweet sensation he had never felt before. 

"You like it?" Dutch asked, flattening out his tongue to flick it over the sensitive nub, leaning back in to apply more constant pressure. 

It was a whimper that left Arthur's lips, his head nodding quick and sharply. 

Dutch held onto the thighs that were wrapped around his head, delicately caressing the skin, not minding the feeling of stubbly hairs beneath his fingertips. Not even the hair of Arthur's most intimate parts bothered or kept him from putting his mouth onto him. He wanted the other to feel at the height of his pleasure, wanted to see and hear more of his lust. 

His tongue gathered the slick dripping from Arthur's hole, tracing his flaps before sucking down on the sensitive skin. 

Arthur was writhing under his mouth, his hips squirming on the mattress, breathless little sounds leaving him as his hands eventually came to grasp at Dutch's strands. He held him tightly in place, moving against the warmth of his mouth, meeting it with the heat of his soaked cunt.

"Good boy," Dutch muttered, the sound of his voice muffled. He loosened the fingers of a hand from Arthur's thigh, skimming them over the flesh until he brought them flush to his entrance. 

His mouth attached to the man's clit again, easing the slide of his tongue with slick and spit, circling it before sucking down again. He could feel the other clench when his fingers inched closer, could feel his impossible heat and wetness as the tip of one slipped inside. 

Arthur was opening up for him easily, his velvet walls stretching and taking the first finger without much resistance. 

"You want me to make you feel good, don't you?" Dutch asked quietly, lifting his head to kiss at the skin of Arthur's thigh, momentarily abandoning his flushed cunt. "Want a real man to take care of you, right Arthur?" He grumbled again, slipping another finger into the man's tight heat at his words, angling and crooking them - searching and _finding_. 

A breathless moan, another quick nod. The fingers in his hair tightened, drew him back in, urging him on. "Stop talkin', 'n get on with it."

And how could he ever deny his favorite boy?

The enclosure of his pants had long since gotten uncomfortable, his cock straining to be free, bulging the fabric almost obscenely. He let up on Arthur's legs completely, letting them bring him even closer, obediently keeping his mouth in place. A shudder ran through the other man, Dutch's fingertips continuously digging into the tender spot within him, his mouth offering just the right suction. 

"M' gonna-- Dutch." It was clear that the man had no way of holding back any longer, his muscles tensing, stomach fluttering as he came, clenching down around the fingers still inside of his cunt, leaking more than he had previously. The sounds coming from his lips were obscene, high-pitched and desperate, stuttering moans that left Dutch wanting more.

He had dropped his hand to the buttons of his pants, had pulled them open, his cock heavy and hot in his own palm. It needed nothing but a few strokes to have it fully erect, all the blood within his body flowing right to the space between his legs. 

"Oh Arthur..." He pulled his fingers free, standing from his crouch now. His hands spread the other man's thighs apart again as he got in between them. Arthur was pliant beneath him, his head still swimming in his post-orgasmic bliss. The look he gave him was hazy, his mouth opened just the slightest bit. He looked upon him like he was a personified God, admiring and awestruck, although reverential in the face of what was to come. 

"Keep goin'," he urged, lifting his hips again, fisting his hands into the sheets in anticipation. It was his first time after all, the stretch of a cock way different than that Dutch's fingers had offered him before. And he wasn't _small_ , either.

"Just breathe, Darling," he muttered, lining himself up to the other's wet cunt, rolling his hips slowly to let the tip slip inside. "That's it," Dutch groaned, placing his hands left and right of the other man's head, his knees digging into the mattress. He kept pushing inwards, listening for every small sound from the other's lips, watching the way his eyes screwed shut. 

Once he was completely seated inside, he gave the other man a chance to adjust, a chance to get used to the feeling of being stretched so thoroughly. He breathed deeply himself, using everything within him not to thrust sharply into the tight vice. 

His hips only started moving when he felt Arthur's feet dig into the back of his thighs, when his hands came up to hold onto his shoulders. The man sought his gaze, hips stuttering against Dutch's own. 

He drew back a bit, moving until only the head of his cock was left within Arthur, snapping his hips forward to thrust all of the way in again. The sound it earned him was heavenly, a sharp and clear groan, only more following as he kept going that way. 

His pace was steady, thrusts more inclined to go _deep_ than to be fast, although it seemed to be just the way Arthur liked it. Dutch knew that he was digging into that tender spot within Arthur's sweet heat, knew that every knock against his core had him feeling mind-numbing bliss. 

"Touch yourself, Arthur," he directed, keeping his pace constant, deep groans punctuating his words. He wanted to feel the other man come around his cock, wanted to feel the way those slick walls would clamp down around him, would squeeze him even tighter than they already did. 

The man did just as he was told, dropping his hand down to disappear between both of their bodies, fingers rubbing his clit quick and rough. His body was reacting pleasantly, moving back onto Dutch with every thrust he delivered, tight walls clenching and pulsating whenever he hit a particularly good spot. 

Both of them were getting close, sweat standing on Dutch's forehead already. The motions of Arthur's hand were getting more desperate yet, his fingers continuously rubbing his clit, moans and whimpers heavy in the air. 

"You want me to fill you up, Darling?" Dutch leaned closer, his hot breath ghosting over Arthur's ear. No matter how reckless they were behaving, no matter the repercussions, the nod that shook Arthur's body made the pleasure spike beneath his skin. His balls slapped against Arthur's ass even harsher, the rhythm they had established breaking as he pressed deeper and harder, faster and more unhinged than before. 

Arthur released a string of moans and curses, trying to press his legs shut, settling with squeezing them around Dutch's sides. His body convulsed yet again, hips thrusting upwards desperately, seeking the friction of his own hand, the friction of the cock within his hole. 

"Just like that--" Dutch pressed in as deep as he could, his balls coming to rest against Arthur's tender skin, slick running down the creased flesh. His cock jerked and twitched, unloading into the younger man with another few shallow thrusts. 

Their harsh breathing was the only audible sound for a long time, wet squelching audible when Dutch pulled his softening cock out. A droplet of his seed followed behind, bright and white, standing out against the otherwise clear liquid of Arthur's body. 

He stared at it, sitting back to skim his fingers through the mess they'd made, to spread Arthur's flaps and behold the beauty of his tainted sex. 

"You don't want to stay away from camp for weeks anymore, right Arthur?" His fingers trailed through the man's unruly pubic hair, coming to rest on his hip. 

Arthur looked up at him, cheeks still burning red. "No," he replied breathlessly, sitting up slowly. 

Dutch gave him a thoughtful nod, satisfied with the answer. He took his hands away, gathering Arthur's pants and underwear to set in his lap.

"Go find Mrs. Grimshaw," Dutch advised, pushing himself off the mattress to stand, only few adjustments needed before he had his cock tucked away again. "Let her give you something so this won't take."

**Author's Note:**

> Scream at me
> 
> tumblr: bluekingdedede


End file.
